


Can't Get It Right Today

by bloodyfandom



Category: NCIS
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Sex, First Time, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyfandom/pseuds/bloodyfandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a teasing smirk, Gibbs puts a hand on either side of Tony’s head, “What’s the matter, DiNozzo? You can’t take a joke?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Get It Right Today

Tony trips into the house - Gibbs laughs as he stumbles - glaring back at the doorstep.  
  
“Did you…”  
  
“Put in a new door frame. Other one was drafty.”  
  
“Could’ve warned me, Boss.”  
  
Gibbs shrugs and takes off his coat, hanging it in the front closet.  
  
“Funnier to watch you trip.”  
  
Tony narrows his gaze and then shakes his head.  
  
“To hell with this, I’ve got better things to do than be your personal entertainment.”  
  
With a disgusted sigh Tony makes to leave but Gibbs grabs his wrist just before his fingers touch the knob and spins him around, pressing him against the door.  
  
With a teasing smirk, Gibbs puts a hand on either side of Tony’s head, “What’s the matter, DiNozzo? You can’t take a joke?”  
  
Tony leans closer, smile dangerous and seductive, “What are you worried about, Gibbs? Losing your easy fuck?”  
  
“You’re anything but easy,” Gibbs rumbles, tilting his head as he closes the space between them, stopping just inches away from Tony’s mouth.  
  
“I dare you,” Tony practically purrs, voice almost a whisper.  
  
“Think they could take it?” Gibbs asks with obvious amusement.  
  
“I dunno,” Tony grins, flicking his gaze to the ceiling, “Why don’t we ask them?”  
  
“Think we should?”  
  
“Hey, guys!” Tony yells, grin broadening when he hears a squeak from the other room, “Could you handle it if Gibbs actually kissed me?”  
  
“Ooo!” Ziva growls, “You…you were leading us on!”  
  
Gibbs laughs and steps back from Tony, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
“Can’t believe you caught it before I did,” Gibbs says, looking Tony over with an impressed nod.  
  
“Come on, Boss. You didn’t see Ziva’s car parked a block back?”  
  
“Was too busy undressing you with my eyes.”  
  
They hold it in for about twelve seconds before bursting out laughing. Ziva puts her hands on her hips with annoyance and Tim rubs the back of his neck, peering up at them shamefacedly through one squinting eye.  
  
“What are you even doing here?” Ziva snaps.  
  
“I live here,” Gibbs snorts, “Tony’s having the wiring in his apartment worked on. There was a short.”  
  
“I was going to spend the night with Yolanda,” Tony sighs, shaking his head, “But sadly Yolanda’s girlfriend is back in town and…well…she’s not into threesomes.”  
  
“Funny,” Ziva grumbles.  
  
“What are _you_ doing here?” Gibbs asks pointedly.  
  
Tony grins and flips on the lights, “Surprise, Boss.”  
  
In the living room Abby blinks and shakes the clapper in her hand, looking sheepish.  
  
“I tried to talk them out of it,” Ducky calls from the kitchen.  
  
“You knew about this?” Gibbs asks, raising an eyebrow at Tony.  
  
“He wasn’t _supposed_ to,” Ziva grumbles, giving McGee an accusatory glare, “Palmer is at Tony’s waiting to pick him up right now.”  
  
“I didn’t say anything!” McGee protests, “I swear!”  
  
“I smelled the cake,” Tony sniffs deeply.  
  
“You’ve got a sixth sense for that,” Gibbs mutters, looking somewhere between uncomfortable and pleased.  
  
For a moment they go quiet and try to discreetly watch Gibbs without being obvious.  
  
“Well?” he snaps, “Let’s get this over with!”  
  
Abby bounces into the foyer, throwing confetti over them all before flinging herself into Gibbs’ arms.  
  
“Happy Birthday, Gibbs!”  
  
“Someone had better call Jimmy,” Tony grins.  
  
Ziva punches McGee in the shoulder.  
  
“Ow!” McGee exclaims, rubbing the spot tenderly, “Ok, geez, I’ll call him.”  
  
“You’re not putting a hat on me,” Gibbs growls, pointing a threatening finger at Abby.  
  
“The hat is for me!” Abby shrinks, holding it away from Gibbs.  
  
“No hat for me?” Tony pouts.  
  
Abby bites back a grin and pulls another one out of seemingly nowhere.  
  
“I tried to get Ziva and McGee to wear hats but they didn’t want to either.”  
  
“What about Ducky?” Tony asks, putting on his hat, careful of the elastic.  
  
Ducky walks back out, hands full of drinks, hat perched jauntily on his head.  
  
“I am neither too proud nor too old for party hats. You know when I was a child…”  
  
“Oh, punch!” Abby bounces, reaching for a glass.  
  
“Ah, ah!” Ducky admonishes, turning to Gibbs with an amused smile, “Birthday boy first.”  
  
“Jesus,” Gibbs grumbles, carefully extricating a drink from Ducky’s grasp.  
  
He takes a sip and makes a face, “It’s… _fruity_.”  
  
“It’s _punch_ ,” Ducky snorts, “What did you expect, bourbon? Honestly, Jethro. Do you want to be picking them up off the floor in an hour?”  
  
Gibbs tilts his head to the side, conceding the point.  
  
By the time Palmer shows up Abby is already tipsy and Gibbs is trying desperately not to laugh at McGee’s awkwardness or the way Ziva shoots the occasional annoyed glance at Tony’s outrageous party stories.  
  
“I’m telling you, Ziva. I got stuck in a tree and they had to call the fire department.”  
  
“That one’s true,” Gibbs says, “Saw the scar and the hospital report.”  
  
Ziva narrows her eyes and glances back and forth between them. Gibbs and Tony look back at her innocently until she turns away, shooting a suspicious glare over her shoulder before going to get more punch.  
  
“Can’t believe she still doesn’t believe me.”  
  
“If I hadn’t seen the hospital report and the scar I wouldn’t believe you either, DiNozzo. You jumped off a five story building with enough liquor in your system to put down a water buffalo and didn’t even break a bone.”  
  
“It was pretty impressive," Tony grins, "even for me,” .  
  
“Pretty stupid, even for you,” Gibbs snorts.  
  
“Presents!” Abby shouts.  
  
“Christ,” Gibbs grimaces, peering at Tony hopefully.  
  
Tony shakes his head and holds up his hands, backing away, “No way, Boss. My life is worth more to me than your dignity.”  
  
“Damnit,” Gibbs mutters.  
  
Abby lays sloppy kisses on Gibbs’ cheek and hands him a box wrapped in sparkly black paper. Gibbs sighs and opens it, careful to keep it hidden from plain view in case it’s another one of Abby’s ‘odd’ gifts.  
  
“…these handmade?”  
  
“Yes! I found them at an antique store.”  
  
Gibbs pulls one of the woodworking tools out of the box, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile.  
  
“Thanks, Abbs.”  
  
She kisses his cheek again enthusiastically and stumbles faintly as she lets him go.  
  
“Ok, Ziva’s turn!”  
  
Ziva blinks owlishly, looking from Abby to Gibbs.  
  
“I…I put the party together I did not…”  
  
“Neither did I,” Palmer smiles apologetically.  
  
“I didn’t get him anything either,” Tony says, patting Ziva’s shoulder, “I think we’re actually safer that way.”  
  
Gibbs chuckles and nods, turning his gaze to McGee who blushes furiously.  
  
“Um…it’s uh…” McGee stammers.  
  
He holds out the card and Gibbs takes it with a nod of thanks. Gibbs opens the card, a loud burst of surprised laughter escaping him seconds later.  
  
“Nice card, McGee,” he laughs.  
  
“Uh…thought you’d like that, Boss,” McGee nods, ducking his head.  
  
Tony tries to grab it away and look it over himself but Gibbs keeps it out of reach.  
  
“And thanks for the gift certificate.”  
  
“Come on, Boss,” Tony wheedles, “Tell us what it says.”  
  
Gibbs glances at McGee who shrugs and nods. With a shrug of his own, Gibbs hands the card and the gift certificate to Tony.  
  
There’s a picture of a man with a gun on the front, on the inside in McGee’s neat handwriting it says, “For all the times you want to shoot us.”  
  
The gift certificate is to a local gun range.  
  
The laughter builds up in Tony until it rolls out of his mouth, his head falling back as he holds the card out to Ziva.  
  
“You may have just saved our lives,” Tony chuckles, clapping McGee on the back.  
  
“Guys!” Abby admonishes, struggling to keep a straight face, “That’s terrible.”  
  
Ducky simply hands Gibbs a bottle of very nice bourbon with a bow on it.  
  
“The usual,” Ducky remarks dryly.  
  
Gibbs quirks his head to the side and nods, “Always appreciated.”  
  
Tony averts disaster by snatching the matches from Abby and lighting the candles on the cake himself but Gibbs raises an eyebrow at them when they start singing Happy Birthday until they trail off uncomfortably – all except Abby who continues on stubbornly until the end and Ducky who only shakes his head with a sigh.  
  
“Make a wish, Gibbs!” Abby urges.  
  
Gibbs grumbles something and blows out the candles, waving a hand in the air as if to say ‘woop-dee-doo’ when everyone cheers and applauds.  
  
“What did you wish for, Boss?” Tony grins.  
  
“For you people to get the hell out of my house.”  
  
“Aw, even me, Boss?”  
  
“Especially you, DiNozzo.”  
  
“Well,” Ducky says firmly, “I think we should all be getting home, actually. It’s rather late and we all have work in the morning.”  
  
With a groan and a small pout Abby throws her arms around Gibbs’ neck and kisses the corner of his mouth.  
  
“You have had a little too much punch,” Gibbs chuckles, prying her off of him and nodding to McGee who comes to lead her away.  
  
“That might be true, Bossman, _but_ …I still love you.”  
  
“Love you too, Abby. Go home.”  
  
Abby latches on to McGee who waves goodbye and quickly makes his exit, Abby in tow. Ziva pats Gibbs’ arm and waves him off when he opens his mouth.  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
“Wasn’t gonna say thank you.”  
  
“I know,” Ziva smirks, “but you’re welcome anyway.”  
  
Gibbs snorts and gently pushes her towards the door. Ducky hugs him, hat still perched on his head and Gibbs chuckles, shaking his own head until Ducky prods him none too gently in the stomach.  
  
“I think perhaps you’ve had a little too much punch as well,” Ducky accuses.  
  
“Maybe,” Gibbs shrugs.  
  
“Uh…Happy Birthday,” Palmer says, looking away and then back, “Um…bye.”  
  
That leaves just him and Tony who shakes the clapper Abby left behind as he sprawls gracefully on the couch. Gibbs looks him over and leans against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets.  
  
“How come you didn’t warn me?”  
  
“Are you kidding?” Tony snorts, “The look on your face was priceless, Boss.”  
  
“Should’ve gotten a picture.”  
  
Tony lets his head fall back against the cushions and smirks seductively, “I think I’ll remember it well enough.”  
  
Something electric zings down Gibbs’ spine and he shifts, clearing his throat and heading for the stairs.  
  
“Night.”  
  
“Night, Gibbs.”  
  
He listens to Tony cleaning up downstairs, quietly amused by the way Ziva assumed Tony would do it and simultaneously annoyed that she didn’t stay to help. He knew she could be absentminded like that sometimes, with little things - her social skills were still somewhat lacking. Gibbs gets ready for bed and just listens to the sounds of someone else in his house. He’d never admit it but he likes that sound. He likes the sound of footsteps tramping up and down the stairs, cabinets slamming, doors opening and shutting and the hush of conversations in another room. A quiet house isn’t natural in his mind but all too soon Tony is upstairs, washing up in the bathroom and going into the guest room.  
  
With a sigh Gibbs strips down and sits on the edge of the bed, trying not to listen for any other sounds but finding himself unable to stop. A creaking floorboard and the slight squeak of his door opening makes him look up, brow furrowed and eyes filled with curiosity.  
  
Tony stands in the doorway framed by the light from the hall, a halo of light around his head. He looks like something from an Italian Renaissance painting though Gibbs can’t imagine what they’d give him sainthood for.  
  
“You need something?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“You gonna stand there all night?”  
  
“No,” Tony says again, biting back a smile.  
  
“So what do you want?” Gibbs grinds out, standing up.  
  
“To give you your birthday present.”  
  
Gibbs blinks at him, “You couldn’t give it to me downstairs?”  
  
For once Tony does not respond – he simply strides forward and hauls Gibbs close, kissing him breathless.  
  
“Not really the kind of present you want an audience around for, Gibbs.”  
  
“What makes you think I want it?”  
  
Tony reaches down and cups Gibbs' half-hard dick. Gibbs glances away and sighs.  
  
“So? You’re good looking and you kiss better than a 500 dollar a night whore. Doesn’t mean we’re doing this.”  
  
“Only 500 a night, Boss?”  
  
“It’s not happening, Tony.”  
  
But Tony kisses him again, stroking him through the soft cotton of his boxers and Gibbs can’t quite bite back the moan. It’s token resistance anyway – he’s wanted to get Tony into his bed for years and he thinks it’d be pretty stupid to argue about getting what he wants.  
  
“You like my hands?” Tony asks as he fondles and teases.  
  
Gibbs nods, hips bucking faintly.  
  
“I’ve got really talented hands,” Tony grins, “But just wait until you get your dick in my ass. That’s really going to blow your mind.”  
  
“Jesus.”  
  
With a swiftness that’s impressive, Tony yanks down Gibbs’ boxers without catching the elastic on Gibbs’ sensitive prick and drops to his knees. His warm mouth engulfs Gibbs’ dick, the vibrations of Tony’s hum of pleasure making Gibbs shiver.  
  
“If you were this hard up for money, Tony, Abby would’ve let you borrow some for a present.”  
  
Tony pulls off, “I have the money. I wanted to give you something thoughtful.”  
  
“Thoughtful?” Gibbs scoffs.  
  
“You like me. I can see it when you look at me. I like you. I know you can see that because there are falling anvils more subtle than my flirting,” Tony peers up at him, licking the head of Gibbs’ dick, “and you’ve never really cared about ‘stuff’ anyway.”  
  
Gibbs grumbles and lays a hand on top of Tony’s head, indicating with a raised eyebrow and the tilt of his head that Tony should get back to it. Tony smirks and takes Gibbs’ balls into his mouth, humming and jacking Gibbs’ dick with one hand.  
  
When Tony pulls off Gibbs starts to protest and then stops when he sees Tony start to strip, licking his lips at the sight of Tony’s lean, tan body.  
  
“Happy Birthday to me,” he smirks.  
  
“On your back,” Tony gestures towards the bed.  
  
Gibbs lies back on top of the covers and Tony crawls up over, straddling his thighs. Gibbs watches as Tony produces a tube of lube and fingers himself with a look of intense concentration.  
  
“You like it?” he finds himself asking.  
  
“What?” Tony asks distractedly.  
  
“Getting fucked,” Gibbs says, “What else?”  
  
Tony’s eyes flutter shut as he adds another finger and then crooks them.  
  
“What does it look like?” Tony pants.  
  
“So…”  
  
“Impatient.”  
  
Gibbs thrusts up, nudging at Tony’s hand with his dick.  
  
“Just…one more second,” Tony mutters, licking his lips.  
  
Tony adds a little more lube and then grabs Gibbs’ dick, slicking it up and then lining them up. He sinks down slowly, mouth slack and eyes screwed shut.  
  
“You ok?” Gibbs asks, smoothing his hands up and down Tony’s trembling thighs.  
  
“I am beyond ok,” Tony breathes, grin blossoming across his face.  
  
He’s fully seated and Gibbs bucks up gently, humming with approval when Tony cries out with pleasure. He likes vocal lovers, likes knowing when what he’s doing is appreciated. He can tell Tony is going to be very vocal.  
  
Licking his lips Tony lifts himself up and then plunges back down, body eagerly taking Gibbs back in. Gibbs squeezes Tony’s hips and bucks up again, smirking when Tony moans. Leaning forward, Tony gets his balance and begins moving in earnest.  
  
Tony rides Gibbs’ dick hard and Gibbs just holds on to his hips, watching Tony’s face as he spirals towards orgasm.  
  
“Yes… _God_ , yeah.”  
  
“Yeah,” Gibbs nods, even though Tony’s eyes are shut, “Come on, Tony.”  
  
“Come on, what?” Tony gasps.  
  
“Cum on me,” Gibbs orders, “Cum for me.”  
  
With a loud groan Tony starts to jerk himself off, leaning forward and using his free hand to support himself as he keeps riding Gibbs’ dick. He doesn’t last much longer and paints stripes of cum over Gibbs’ chest and stomach. He shakes and moans, squeezing tight around Gibbs’ dick and Gibbs arches, hips bucking up into Tony’s body as he cums too.  
  
Tony rocks his hips faintly as his orgasm fades, biting his bottom lip and leaning heavily on his arms. Gibbs runs his hands up and down Tony’s shaking arms and smiles, letting his fingers trail up to Tony’s face.  
  
“C’mere,” he murmurs, dragging Tony down for a kiss.  
  
“Good present?” Tony asks breathily.  
  
“Hell yeah.”  
  
They kiss again, bodies growing heavy and sleepy until they finally disentangle. Tony tries to get off the bed but Gibbs frowns and hauls him back with a grunt.  
  
“Boss…at least let me get cleaned up.”  
  
“Better come back. I’m not sleeping alone tonight.”  
  
“Ok, ok. Jesus.”  
  
Gibbs uses his discarded shirt to wipe cum off of his skin and crawls under the covers, waiting impatiently for Tony. He’s dozing off when Tony finally slides in beside him, smoothing a hand over his stomach.  
  
“We get to do that again?”  
  
“If you want to,” Tony shrugs, “I think it’s a crime in some countries to not attempt a repeat of fantastic sex.”  
  
“Yeah,” Gibbs yawns, “the French ones.”  
  
“Makes sense,” Tony yawns back.  
  
Gibbs grumbles after a minute and hauls Tony closer, kissing him once more before falling asleep.  
  
\--  
  
In the morning Tony makes them breakfast and only burns it a little when Gibbs comes up behind him, kissing the back of his neck.  
  
They shower, get dressed and drive to the office with minimal conversation; neither of them particularly being morning people.  
  
Just as they’re about to step onto the elevator Tony glances over at Gibbs and frowns with worry at the faint glimmer of uncertainty in Gibbs’ eyes and the look of contemplation on his face.  
  
“You alright, Boss?”  
  
Gibbs glances at him and shrugs.  
  
“Having trouble getting it right these last few days,” Gibbs mutters as they step on.  
  
“Getting what right, Boss?” Tony asks, punching the button for their floor.  
  
“Being a bastard.”  
  
Tony snorts and flips the emergency switch, crowding Gibbs up against the wall.  
  
“How about you leave the bastard at work and just do what comes naturally everywhere else?”  
  
Gibbs tilts his head back and regards Tony, “Been a while since I did that.”  
  
“Try,” Tony breathes, kissing him once, softly.  
  
Eyes slipping shut, Gibbs sighs, “Yeah, alright.”  
  
Tony pulls back with a grin and Gibbs slaps him upside the head.  
  
“Still at work,” Tony rubs the back of his head, “Right, got ya.”  
  
With a faint wince Tony steps back and flips the switch.  
  
“You ok?” Gibbs grumbles, “Seem a little…stiff. You didn’t uh…”  
  
“Just been a while since I’ve…”  
  
The doors open and they exit. Tony sidles up close, lowering his voice.  
  
“Since I’ve done it in that position. Thighs are burning like hell.”  
  
Gibbs turns slightly, looking Tony over with a wicked smirk.  
  
“You know, it’s been a while since we had a really good work-out in the gym. I think I might be letting you guys get…complacent.”  
  
“Boss,” Tony pleads, “I’m seriously in pain here. Please.”  
  
“Warm the muscles up,” Gibbs continues, “Get the blood pumping. You’ll feel better in no time, DiNozzo.”  
  
“Damnit,” Tony mutters.  
  
“What was that?” Gibbs asks, looking Tony over critically.  
  
“…nothing, Boss.”  
  
Tony’s cell phone rings and he prays for a case.  
  
“DiNozzo.”  
  
“Agent DiNozzo,” Helen from dispatch barks into his ear, spouting off details rapid fire.  
  
“Helen, can I just say I love you?”  
  
“That’s nice,” she snorts, hanging up on him.  
  
“Case, Boss!” Tony grins cheerfully.  
  
Gibbs narrows his eyes and takes a few steps forward, crowding Tony against one of the partitions.  
  
“Don’t think that means you’re off the hook.”  
  
“Of course not, Boss,” Tony nods, trying to adopt the proper expression of fear and suffering.  
  
He has the feeling he’s failing miserably on that front because Gibbs looks…well, scary.  
  
“So, what’s the case?”  
  
“Missing Colonel.”  
  
Gibbs glares at Tony hard, “Get the team ready. I’m getting coffee.”  
  
“On it, Boss,” Tony grins.  
  
Gibbs turns on his heel and Tony turns a little more slowly.  
  
“And put a little spring in that step, DiNozzo! We don’t have all day!”


End file.
